


waiting by the phone (like i'm sitting in an airport bar)

by benditlikepress



Category: NCIS
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Phone Calls & Telephones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:54:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28264227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benditlikepress/pseuds/benditlikepress
Summary: Christmas Eve, 2017. Ziva keeps a promise.
Relationships: Ziva David/Anthony DiNozzo
Comments: 22
Kudos: 52





	waiting by the phone (like i'm sitting in an airport bar)

**Author's Note:**

> obligatory Christmas fic combined with my first fic inspired by ‘evermore’. this title is from cowboy like me  
> this holiday season I just want to say thanks to the people who share and discuss my fics on twitter! I only have a locked personal account so can't thank you personally but I appreciate all of your kind words so much.

Tony turned his phone over in his hands. Clicked the power button, watched the time flash on screen. 

It had officially been Christmas Day for 37 minutes, but he wasn’t ready to give up on Christmas Eve just yet. As he stared at his second glass of whiskey, the liquid seemed to glow in the light shining from the lamp behind his head. He wondered if it was his tired eyes that made the stars dance across it, or maybe the fact he’d been sat in the dark now for far too long.

He knew what he really needed was bed. A couple of hours of rest before the madness of Christmas morning with a kid.

Still, she said she’d call.

Five or ten more minutes passed, and Tony’s eyes drifted around the room as he ran that last conversation over in his head. Conversations with Ziva were a paradox: often over quickly, but replayed so often in his mind that they seemed to grow in length with every recollection. What stuck in his mind most vividly was the discussion of Christmas. A firm date that both of them could picture, a mark on the calendar that didn’t change.

They hadn't talked for 4 months around last holiday season. When they'd managed a conversation a couple of weeks before her birthday this year, 10 minutes of babbling and rushing through every sentence and Tony practically holding his breath until they hung up, she'd said she was going to try and ring over Hannukah but wasn't sure how plausible it was. Failing that, she was calling on Christmas Eve. She'd gone to promise but the word had abruptly cut short - neither of them able to offer any right now.

Tony hadn't needed the word. He believed her now, _even now_ , though he felt more like a fool for doing so with every minute that passed. Familiar feelings of regret and sadness and muted anger slowly rolled over him, moments spread across decades flashing across his mind as he thought about all of the things he could’ve done differently to avoid ending up here. It wasn’t a full ‘ _It’s a Wonderful Life’_ , but he wondered how much deeper the self-pitying could get.

The presents on the sofa looked grotesque with his current mood, a reminder of the happiness he'd be strapping on in a couple of hours. 

He'd got a whole week off work for Christmas. He didn't mean to get it twisted - he was delighted at the prospect of real time off, and the opportunity to experience traditions and Christmas magic with Tali now she was at an age that she could really enjoy it. The 14 hours a day she was awake, he couldn't wait for. It was the others that were causing him problems. 

Tony was sure that this Christmas Eve was the first time in the last 18 months that she’d gone to bed before the time Tony had set out. She didn’t remember much of anything from last Christmas and even less from the ones before he’d been around, but the promise of presents and food and pop-pop had had her changing into her pyjamas as soon as she’d finished dinner.

She had, Tony had been told, taken part in Christmases before he’d been on the scene. Ziva had made some comment over the phone when he’d asked once, about it being a part of his culture and that being important for Tali to take part in. It had made him feel a little sick at the time. A stark reminder of things he’d missed.

He looked guiltily at her closed bedroom door now, backlit by the light at the end of the hall. They'd got Tali involved in one call, early on, but it only resulted in confusion and days of upset. For all three of them, Tony would bet, though Tali was the best at voicing it. It sounded morbid and cruel but sometimes he was a little jealous of her tantrums.

Maybe it wasn’t the most mature or constructive way a human being could deal with their problems, but Tony thought sometimes that in terms of expression it was a step up from what he did. Sat here alone, with a drink, ruminating internally over his own loneliness. Waiting for the phone to ring.

Tony was no stranger to loneliness - a heavy, hazy feeling of familiarity that cocooned him nightly on the last couple years alone. This loneliness, though was different - bitter, and angry, a weight on his chest that pressed and pressed as he comprehended an uncertain future. 

It had never really occurred to him before, the loneliness of a single parent. He thought about the single mom he'd dated for a couple of months a long time ago and felt guilty it hadn't crossed his mind back then why she was so enthusiastic about meeting his friends. Guilt itself wasn't an unusual feeling, one that seemed to creep more on him as the years passed. 

He wasn't a single parent, he reminded himself. Maybe in practice, but not in theory. No, Tali had two dedicated parents who should be spending every second with her. If not for the interference of.. cosmic evil, and karma, and a hundred other bitter twisted things that Tony didn't believe in conspiring to keep them apart. He emptied the rest of his glass into his open mouth and swilled it around before swallowing, feeling the harsh cold on his teeth. 

* * *

It had become something of an unwritten rule, the two of them at least checking in with each other on Christmas even if Ziva didn’t celebrate. Even years ago – before Tali was even a passing thought in either of their minds on their most sentimental days. He remembered the year it had been cemented – he’d spent the day alone in a period where he hadn’t been talking to dad and had stopped by Gibbs’ house in the evening for want of anything else to do. Gibbs had opened the door with something of a wry smile and he’d seen why when he’d gone inside, finding Ziva sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of something golden. There was a plate of gingerbread in front of her, and instead of saying hello she pushed them towards him.

She’d made a comment about them being traditional, a question mark at the end as though waiting for him to confirm. He’d taken the invitation to sit opposite her and repeated the excuse he’d practiced on the way over about wanting to check in on Gibbs knowing he was alone.

She’d given him a smile, and a raise of her eyebrow, and told him to eat his gingerbread. The taste was sweet and sickly in his mouth.

The evening had been fun, and lively, and Gibbs had shown a side of himself that Ziva seemed to coax out more than most others. Tony regretted not coming sooner as the night had drawn in, and when it did eventually become time to leave he just about stopped himself from giving the boss a hug.

He'd given Ziva a lift home, and the car ride had been filled with muted conversation about how difficult Gibbs must find this time of year. This was back when knowledge of Shannon and Kelly was still new to them, a forbidden hidden chapter in his enigmatic life. Other silent things had clung over their brief discussion of grief and loneliness: the fact that both of them suffered the exact same thing. That, maybe, the way they spoke about Gibbs being lonely was a vehicle to talking about themselves. 

When they pulled up outside Ziva's apartment, Tony had kissed her cheek by way of goodnight. Her skin was cold but flushed, and she'd smiled as she ducked her head away. 

That smile from that night clung behind his eyes now as he reminisced, the way her eyes shined so brightly back then before all of this happened. A way he still hoped they might again, one day, even if the idea seemed ridiculous by now.

* * *

Tony must have drifted off at some point, because even more time than he realised had passed the next time he looked at his phone. The home screen was still backlit when suddenly it sprung into life, a small vibration quickly turning to a ring.

Tony answered without hesitation, more a reflex to avoid waking the light sleeper in the next room than an eagerness to talk. So much so, that when he put the phone to his ear in haste, he paused in silence as he thought of what to say.

"Is it too late?" 

"No, it's not too late." 

"Merry Christmas." 

Ziva's voice was muffled and Tony could picture her, phone pressed tightly against her face. "Merry Christmas. And happy Hannukah. And birthday, we missed that too." 

“I.. I am sorry.”

“No, that’s alright. You know what I was just thinking about?”

“Tell me.”

“You remember that Christmas, the two of us went to see Gibbs. I walk in and you’re sat in the kitchen and I try and make up some..” Tony chuckled, “-some crap about wanting to check in on him. And you saw right through me.”

He heard a little laugh over the phone, a sound so small evoking such a strong lurch in his stomach. “You would never have admitted you were lonely. I do not know why.”

“Well, I am now.” It sounded only half as pathetic as he’d been anticipating in the second before he said it, but the moment of silence that followed didn’t help. "How long do we have?" 

"A little while. Things are quiet. I-” The word came out quickly and then got cut off. “I am sorry, Tony, that things are so hard. I wish there was something I could do to fix it, but I feel as though I am-”

“Hey, it’s not yours to fix.”

“But I-”

“ _Hey_.” He reiterated quietly, hearing a flit of panic in her voice. “It’s not your fault that this is happening. Alright? I’m gonna keep saying that until you believe it.”

“OK.” There was another moment of silence and then something that sounded a little like a sniff. “I am not sure how this has turned into you reassuring me. That is what I am trying to do; calling.”

“It’s alright to call for yourself too, y’know.”

“I know. I suppose I still feel as if I.. owe you something.” Her hesitation was notable in its constant presence, the way she had always been able to slow over words as she picked them carefully. “But this is not about me. This feeling of being alone. Is it a permanent feeling?" 

Tony sighed. "No. Well, yeah. I guess that's natural, right? It's always worse at night. Or when I'm.." 

"Are you drunk?" 

"No. I've had a drink. Two." 

"How much are you drinking?" 

"Ziva. It's not a thing." His voice was a little stern in its determination to get the point across. He was never much of a heavy drinker. Not in a long time - not since Jenny, and that summer on the boat. 

"OK." 

"Seriously, I-" 

"I believe you. I do." 

"That night.." Tony drifted off with a smirk full of reminiscence. There was never time for platitudes and dancing around topics in their conversations anymore, years of denial leaving them desperately trying to reveal information in any second they were allowed. "God, I wanted to kiss you. It's why I drove you home." 

"I know. But I think maybe that is a given, hm? You were always thinking of doing that." 

"Someone thinks a lot of herself." 

"Not exactly. I think I am just sentimental." 

The idea that Ziva could miss that - Tony showing an attraction to her, being able to see the desire and affection in his eyes, made his stomach churn even more than the mere sound of her voice did. 

"How are you, anyway? Still got all your limbs?" It was a strange out-of-place joke they'd forged a while back, as little of information as Ziva was willing to provide.

"10 fingers and toes."

"Both, huh? The life of luxury."

“Sometimes we have to celebrate the small victories in life, yes? Especially around this time of year. I have been praying, actually, about you. It is not something I do particularly often but I suppose it is that season when things are on my mind.”

He closed his eyes for a moment as she continued to talk, the lilt of her voice changing a little as she became more comfortable. He heard the sound every day in his head, but it still hit him like a train for the first time when he heard it for real. 

“Really, Tony. I wish you could tell me everything.”

“We’d be here forever if we tried.”

“Tell me one thing.”

He sighed as he ruminated over his thoughts from the evening, sifting through them to find one he felt like he could share with someone he knew carried guilt like a brick on her shoulder. "Y’know, I hate it when Tali goes to sleep. She’s a crappy sleeper, you know that, and I spend hours trying to convince her to sleep and then when she does I just sit down and it's silent. I hate silence." 

He expected Ziva to make some kind of quip at that, but she didn't. 

"How is she?" 

"So excited she practically wanted to fall asleep on the 23rd."

"Has Santa Claus been to visit?" 

"I think I heard a pitter patter on the roof a little while back." 

"Ah, I see. And what has he delivered?" 

Tony looked at the pile of presents on the sofa with a low laugh. "It'd probably be easier to tell you what he _hasn't_ delivered." 

"I hope you are not spoiling her too much." 

"Ah, c'mon. It's Christmas." 

“I imagine you never spoil her any other time of year then, yes?”

“Christmas. And Hannukah. Birthdays. 4th of July. Halloween.” Tony trailed off an arbitrary list of holidays, hearing the desired effect of a little chuckle on the end of the line.

"What is your favourite thing about this time of year?" 

He could tell she was putting on a brave face, launching into topics without hesitation in a way that made her pause to have to consider her words. He could relate, hearing himself as he tried to fill silences with conversation. Not able to leave a second unfilled knowing they only had a finite amount. 

"That's a good question, actually. Somebody asked me at work a couple of days ago and it got me thinking. I think when I was younger I would've made up some answer about.. movies, or food, or whatever. But honestly I'm just excited to see Tali's face in the morning when she wakes up and sees her presents. Seeing my dad, maybe going to the park. Falling asleep at 3pm on the couch."

“Is Senior already there?”

“He’s in Spain with a woman. Arriving early morning. In..” Tony pulled the phone away from his face to check the time. 2:17am. “-about 3 hours, actually.”

"Sorry."

"Eh, I get it. Time zones, anyway. It's Christmas Eve somewhere, right?

“That is true. To be honest, I had not been paying attention to the time tonight. I should have thought about it before I called.”

“You been sleeping OK?”

“I have never needed much sleep.”

He could practically hear the weariness in her voice as he said the words, and for the first time he wondered if she still looked the same. They hadn't seen each other in person since that one time in Cairo, and he'd been shocked back then by how she could've been ripped straight from his daydreams. A little more tired, a little more fearful and hands wringing and eyes darting, but with a look in them so familiar it pierced straight through his heart.

The image of her that day had been replaying in his head almost constantly of late. Maybe it was the time of year - sentimentality was practically an enforced hobby at Christmas. That and the cold weather outside, of course, meaning he had more time sitting not doing anything. The second his mind was free, it was an inevitability his thoughts turned straight to her. Why break the habit of a lifetime?

“Yeah, I know. You and Gibbs were always in the office when I’d just barely got to sleep.”

"I think that was a problem with you, not us. Are you in contact lately? With Gibbs?" 

"Not as much as I should be. It's hard, y'know." 

"You should not isolate yourself, Tony." 

The apartment was getting colder as the night passed and Tony threw a cushion over his bare feet, balling them up underneath the coverage as they slowly warmed. He couldn’t see through the window with the curtains drawn, but he thought there might be a white Christmas waiting outside. "I don't. It's just.. kind of impossible to be close with people when you're hiding such a big part of your life." 

Silence again, for a moment. "You say that you are lonely and I.. there are people who care about you, Tony. And maybe you do have to keep a distance on some things, but call him. Please. It is Gibbs, you know he will not force conversation out of you." 

"He doesn't have to. I've never been able to lie to him." 

"That has not stopped you trying." 

Her voice was weighted and kind, a knowing behind it that stopped him trying to cover up the truth. She’d always had a particular voice she used with him when she was requesting vulnerability – a softness he didn’t hear her use with anyone else.

He could almost feel the ghost of her touch on his fingers, with his eyes closed. Maybe he'd drunk more than he realised. 

“I’ll call him in the new year. Promise.”

“So long as you do.”

“How are you, Ziva, really? I feel like I’m just talking about myself, but I..” Tony drifted off as he heard the silence become more pronounced on the other end of the line. Purposeful.

"This time of year is always the hardest. Days are a lot shorter and I find I have too much time in the dark to think." 

"I was thinking that. Doing less this time of year, things on your mind.” It was easy to imagine the two of them, worlds apart, both thinking of the other. The thought had always comforted Tony, actually: a connection between the two of them even when it seemed impossible. “So you're in the northern hemisphere, huh?" 

"Tony..." 

"I'm sorry." 

Ziva sighed, and when she started to talk her voice was softened. "I hope you know I think about you all the time." 

"I know." 

"Even if that is all I can offer, I..." 

"It's not. All of this, it's.. you're doing it for us. That should be enough." 

"Should be, but isn't." 

"That's not how I meant it. Ziva, I.. God, it's Christmas and I miss you like hell. And maybe it's selfish to wish you could just come here and we can deal with the consequences later but I do."

Admissions had never come easily to either of them, but Tony found they tumbled out of his mouth now whenever he got the chance. Ziva, for her part, took her time with the words. She’d always been more purposeful when she spoke. "If I thought I could, you know there would not be a second of hesitation. There is very little I would not do to be there with you right now. It is the one constant on my mind when everything else is changing by the day. To be able to see you, to _be_ with you...” Her voice grew wistful and dipped further as she continued to speak, as though she couldn’t quite speak out loud.

"Are you around people right now?" 

"No." 

"You're whispering." 

"Sorry." Her voice raised marginally. "It is a force of habit." 

"Yeah, I get that." 

"It is rare I get the chance to raise my voice when talking at the moment." 

"D'you ever wish you could? Just.. let loose? Scream the place down?" 

"Do you?" 

"Sometimes." A moment of understanding passed between them. They'd always had the ability to understand one another in a way that they struggled to with other people, a connection that meant things didn't need as much of an explanation. "I wish I could say things right now that'd make all of this easier on you." 

"I don't want you to, Tony. I am not sure there is much either of us could say to make it easier." 

"Just.. so you know, though. Today's a crappy day but things are OK here. The two of us, we're mostly fine. Most of the time. Small victories, right?" Tony ran a finger slowly through the condensation on his glass. 

“Hearing that is a victory to me. Truly. As long as I can imagine that the two of you are alright, it makes things a little easier.”

“Don’t waste your energy worrying about us, Ziva. Alright? We’re good.”

The silence that followed was perhaps the least charged so far, and Tony again listened to the sound of Ziva breathing on the other end of the line. Her open anxieties had shocked him, when they’d seen each other last in Cairo. He wondered how much they’d been bubbling under the surface for years in the past and had finally been able to spill out when the newest in the long line of stressors were added.

“Thank you. I know I should be the one reassuring you.”

“Well, when you can’t tell me what you’re doing I don’t think that’s ever gonna happen.” Tony hoped it didn’t sound malicious, and thankfully he heard Ziva laugh a little in response. It was well-trodden ground at this point – Ziva’s inability to give even the slightest information about what it was she was doing. “Are you in a country that celebrates Christmas?" 

"Yes, I am. I was not last year. There are markets and lights and songs. It reminds me of home. Of - America." She corrected. 

He was almost certain she was in Europe, but the idea she was close made his shackles rise and he changed the subject. 

“Stupid question. I’m guessing there isn’t much time for celebrations.”

“No, that is true. But I am able to feel it as I walk around, I am sure you understand what I mean. And even if I am not taking part I can see what it means to other people.” There was a pause and Tony listened to see if he could hear anything except careful breathing. "I know Christmas is about family. That is what I am feeling, today. I wish I was with my family." 

It was a jarring word, pained and sharp. Something neither of them had never actually got to experience together. 

It had never stopped Tony thinking of her that way, though. Even when he had no right to; when their relationship couldn’t in practical terms be thought of as anything more than ‘colleagues and friends’ there had always been a part of him that viewed it as such in his head. The two of them interconnected, with or without words.

“What are you thinking?”

“Nothing in particular. I just miss you tonight.”

“I miss you too.” He could hear a small smile on her lips. “So what have you been doing since we last spoke?”


End file.
